


Face the Rising Sun

by superduple



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-12-16 05:55:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11822607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superduple/pseuds/superduple
Summary: This is a story based on raffurano's (raffurano.tumblr.com) tribe AU! The entire premise is based on the idea that Yang is raised by Raven and her tribe, rather than Taiyang and Summer. This is, of course, my take on the idea. Most aspects of the world (auras, semblances, towns, kingdoms, etc.) mirror the show. The world is much more low-tech, however. No transforming weapons, little to no dust technology, and definitely no robots or airships. Also, some people's semblances will be completely changed/ expanded upon.





	1. Red Drops and Tear Drops

“Ren. Ren! Come on, we have to get out of here!”

Nora pulled at his sleeve in an effort to budge Ren from where he sat. He was on his knees, hearing and feeling the screams and crashes—clouds of smoke billowed into the air as the concrete turned to rubble beneath their feet. Men and women and children hid and fled in all directions. But Ren couldn’t bring himself to move.

Nora ducked under one of his arms and brought him up onto his feet. “We’ve gotta go, Ren. Come on! We have to keep moving!” The two kids slowly started to shuffle toward the western exit of the town. They had taken cover behind a building that was still mostly standing, just long enough to watch a nauseatingly familiar scene play out in front of them. Bandits had come to raze the village of Tsutsugi. Creatures of Grimm were at their heels, following the stench of enmity.

“Why,” Ren managed, barely above a whisper. “Why is it happening again?” Nora stopped and leaned Ren against a wall. His breathing was heavy and he was visibly trembling. As horrible as the scene was, the memories bubbling up into the front of his mind were even worse.

“Ren. Ren come on, you have to breathe slower. Look at me.” They were two children, reliving a nightmare from way back when. But that didn’t matter. They had survived odds like this for years together. Nora had to make sure that their journey didn’t stop here. She placed her hand on the side of his head and brushed her thumb across his temple. “Look at me.”

Her words finally broke through the wall of tangled emotions that clouded Ren’s mind. He looked up to face her, and she smiled. They were children, twelve years old and four years orphaned—and they would survive this. Ren’s aura flickered as his fear fell away. He used his semblance to reassure Nora, too, but she didn’t need it. Seeing Ren come back to reality was more than enough.

“Alright. Now, let’s get to that gate and get out of here. The bandits are everywhere and more grimm are probably coming.” She looked over to the western gate again. “We can make it if we get into the forest.” They shared one last look and sprinted toward the gate. They held hands so that Ren could conceal them both while running. Several townspeople were filtering through the gate; the few warriors that they had likely held most of the fighting to the center of town.

Just as the pair made it onto the main cobblestone path that led out of the village, a smaller grimm crashed onto the ground a few yards in front of them. A girl was standing opposite to it: she had bright blonde pigtails and was clad in a loose yellow tunic. The creature started to dissipate, and she pumped her fist in triumph.

“Nice try, ugly. But you were _way_ out of your league today.” She looked up and saw Ren and Nora standing there, stupefied. “What? You guys never seen a fight before?”

Just then, a griffon swooped out of the sky and landed on the girl, pinning her beneath its front talon. The ground quaked at the enormous impact. Her aura faltered as she reeled from the blow, but she quickly regained her composure and began to struggle against its weight. The creature reared its head back to lunge, but recoiled when Ren’s dagger came flying into the side of its neck.

Ren sprinted at the griffon, leapt into the air and grabbed onto his dagger, sinking it deeper. He ripped the blade free and placed himself between the girl and the frenzied grimm. Ren pressed his hand to the ground and channeled his semblance through both of them, concealing them from it.

“Ren!” Nora called from behind the creature. It had lost track of the other two, so it turned its attention toward her. Another wave of villagers passed her on the way to the gate. A large man saw that she was in danger and picked her up as he went. “Hey! What are you doing?! Let me go!”

Ren realized his mistake and called out, “Nora!” She heard him and reached back, but it was in vain. The man hoisted her over his shoulder as they passed through the gate and faded out of sight. Ren’s concentration was broken, and the griffon found its original targets once more. It pounced toward them with a deafening screech. Neither of the children had enough time to act—they just huddled into each other.

The sound of ripping flesh pierced the air as the grimm’s battle cry sputtered into a mess of gurgles and gasps. Ren reluctantly opened his eyes and saw an armor-clad figure with their sword stuck hilt-deep into the griffon. It fell to the ground and evaporated into a black mist. The figure turned around to face Ren and the girl. She had long, jagged, dark hair, crimson armor that covered her shoulders and arms, a black and red tunic, and a menacing mask that resembled the face of a grimm.

“Yang. Can you stand?” The girl behind him struggled back onto her feet. She managed to regain her bearings.

“Y-Yes ma’am. We’re all good here.” She attempted to give a thumbs up but immediately winced at a pain in her side. “Well, mostly.”

The woman’s gaze slowly turned to Ren. He was, strangely, struck with more fear now than when he was facing the grimm. His thoughts raced to and fro until he finally remembered.

_Nora._

Without thinking, Ren turned to run for the western gate. He only managed to take two steps before the woman grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back.

“W-Wha?” Ren turned toward her and struggled to break free. “Let me go! I have to find Nora!” He clumsily yanked back and forth, to no avail. He took another look at the masked woman.

_Wait._

“You…” Ren pulled his dagger and attempted to slash at her arm. He didn’t land, but she did release him. He took a few steps back, weapon at the ready. “You’re bandits! You’re the ones who have been killing all of these people! THE GRIMM ARE HERE BECAUSE OF YOU!” They both stood there, looking at him without speaking. Rage was consuming his body and mind. These people were the reason that so many were dead. THEY were the reason that he had been made to see a mirror of his home’s destruction.

Nora’s voice echoed in his mind. His thoughts cleared.

“I… I can’t do this. I have to find her.” He turned to run into the forest, but the masked woman appeared between him and the exit near instantaneously. She grasped the hilt of her sheathed katana.

“If you want to leave, then you have to get past me. If you’re not strong enough to do that, then your life is forfeit.”

Ren’s semblance functioned in a number of ways. He could mask the emotions of himself and others, even alter them to a small degree. Just as importantly, though, it made him keenly aware of the motivations of others. Even above all of the chaos that surrounded them, he could feel the ruthlessness pouring from this woman. The ambition. The self-assuredness. This was not a fight that he could win.

But he had to try.

He rushed toward her with determination burning in his eyes. She stood there, statuesque. Once he was within range, he jumped and lunged his dagger toward her torso. The woman partially unsheathed her blade, just enough to ram the pummel end into the boy’s stomach. He doubled over and recoiled, slamming into the cobblestone walkway. He grasped and crawled on the ground, trying to coax air back into his lungs. The woman approached him.

His vision started to darken—he could barely see her ambling closer. His breath slowly returned in small gasps. He pulled himself onto his feet with one arm clutching his stomach and the other holding his dagger between himself and his assailant. She stopped and unsheathed her blade.

He mustered what little strength he had left and slashed at her, and her sword came down with the force of a lightning strike. She cleaved through the blade of Ren’s dagger like paper, the very tip of the sword cutting a gash over his left eye. He collapsed onto his knees, howling at the pain and cupping his hands over the eye. Small drips of blood escaped from between his fingers. Red drops and tear drops fell onto what remained of his father’s dagger.

The air was strangely quiet, with the exception of Ren’s sobs and wails. Two others walked over, though Ren was too overwhelmed to notice. One was a middle-aged man with a red bandana, apparently also a member of the tribe. The other was Yang. She stood there in silence, regarding the sniveling pile of Ren with a blank expression. The masked woman turned to the man.

“Grab the child. Get his wound dressed, bind him, and put him in a carriage near the front of the caravan. Then see to perimeter defense while the supplies are being loaded.”

“Understood, Raven.”

The man picked Ren up like a weepy sack of flower and carried him away.

“Yang.”

The girl turned and looked up at her. Raven didn’t make eye contact.

“Get yourself to the medic. And once the caravan is moving, I want to speak to you about your performance today.”

Yang flinched slightly and averted her gaze to the ground. “Yes, ma’am.” Raven left, presumably to oversee the retrieval of goods. Yang’s look was thoughtful. She lingered for a few moments longer.

The next few hours were a blur. Ren’s eye was cleaned and bandaged, his hands were bound behind his back, and he was tossed into an enclosed wagon that was mostly empty, save for a few crates. His lucidity came and went. At some point, the caravan started moving. The wagon bumped and moaned while the rough slats on the floor dug their splinters into his skin. Another while passed, and the wagon lurched to a stop. The subdued commotion outside pulled his mind out of its semi-conscious haze. A woman from the tribe opened the latch door. A chilling gust of air intruded and caused him to jolt.

“Squirm on over here, kid. You’ve got a date with the chief.” Ren managed to sit up. He could feel the enormous bruise forming on his abdomen, and his eye throbbed. She eyed him impatiently. “Now.”

After wrestling him from the wagon, she put a hand on his shoulder and led him to a clearing. Dozens of gruff, intimidating looking people set up tents and piled firewood. More could be heard yelling in the woods, likely setting up a defense for grimm. The clearing fanned out for a hundred yards in every direction. An enormous tarp that slanted upward towards them stood in the center, with a few easily-transportable tables and makeshift seats organized around a roaring fire. Raven sat at a rather large wooden seat several yards back from the fire, not quite extravagant enough to be called a throne, but certainly a step up from the stumps and stools that surrounded it. Ren saw her face for the first time, through the flames. She gazed into the fire with intense contemplation.

“Here he is, chief.” She pushed down on Ren’s shoulder and he fell to his knees. Raven looked him over, her burning red eyes picking apart and analyzing every inch of skin and stitch of clothing.

She spoke without turning her eyes away from him. “Summon Yang. And Torya.” The woman nodded and left Raven and Ren alone. “Do you understand your situation, child?” Her voice was somehow both restrained and powerful, and deathly matter-of-fact.

Ren struggled to maintain eye contact with her for more than a second at a time. He went to speak, but the words froze in his throat. The fire pit felt hot against his back, but the air between himself and Raven seemed glacial.

“Then let me explain it to you.” Raven’s eyes narrowed, and she sat up in her seat. “I saw your semblance. You’re somehow able to mask your presence from the grimm. Not only that, it seems that you can also extend this ability to those around you.” She stood up. “You also seem to have some modest potential as a warrior. You’re weak now, but you have spirit and you move well.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had no idea until now what these people intended to do with him, but the thought of remaining here, of _living_ among these butchers… it was absurd. How could they expect him to go along with it when they had taken away the one thing that vaguely resembled home to him? He heard footsteps from behind. Yang walked into the awning, followed by a tall, lean figure shrouded in white and green robes. Raven regarded them with a slight nod.

“So what did you need me for?” Yang stood to face her mother and looked over her shoulder at the boy. “And why do we still have this kid?”

Raven smiled at her question and looked over at the robed figure. “Torya. Prepare a fire resonance rune.”

Torya shifted slowly, presumably to eye the young captive. Her eyes were obscured so it was impossible to tell. Her airy voice was almost inaudible. “I will at once.” She glided over to a table and laid out several sheets of paper, vials, and crystals.

“He is here for the same reason that I called you here.” Raven placed her hands on her hips. “First, tell me your name, boy.”

Ren stared at her in defiance. A scowl furrowed his brow, but he quickly realized that the gash on his bandaged eye didn’t appreciate the strain. Raven walked up to him, then kneeled onto one knee and placed her hand on his shoulder. Her presence was overwhelming.

“Tell. Me. Your name.” Her gaze was steadfast. Ren could feel fearful tremors beginning to pull at his body.

“L-Lie… Ren.” His voice came out in a whisper. Raven half smiled and stood back up.

“Thank you.” She motioned toward the girl. “This is Yang, my only daughter. You two have already met.” The two children stared at each other, with different levels of confusion.

“What do I have to do with him?” Yang questioned, visibly growing more agitated.

“It has come to my attention that your performance in combat has been sorely lacking, lately.” Raven walked over to where Torya was working. “Do you truly intend to take over as chief when I’m gone, Yang?”

“Of course I do!” Yang’s fists clenched and her stance widened. “I already told you that I would do better, and I meant it!”

“I’ve heard that from you more times than I can count.” Raven’s voice raised as she turned and approached her daughter. “But _all_ that I have _ever_ seen come from your words are more mistakes followed by even more excuses.” Yang’s eyes widened and she took a step back. Raven stood just in front of her. She placed her hand on Yang’s fluffy blonde hair, then lightly pushed the girl’s head back to get a proper look at her. “I know that you have it within you to succeed. But I have to insure that you live long enough to get that chance.”

Yang’s body seemed to relax as she looked up at her mother without speaking. Raven removed her hand and turned back to Torya. “Are you almost finished?” The robed woman scraped a red dust crystal against the paper in intricate patterns. She rounded out the last part of the rune and paused.

“One more moment.” She took the crystal that she had used to sketch the rune and channeled her aura through it. The crystal glowed, along with the small rune on the parchment. Torya appreciated her work for a moment, then stood straight. “There. It is finished.”

“Good. Bring it here.” Torya walked over and faced Ren, with the parchment in one hand and the dust crystal in the other. Raven walked behind Ren and untied his wrists. He huddled his hands close and lightly rubbed his rope-burned skin. Raven paced over to her chair and sat down. Night had begun to fall. “Remove your shirt, boy.”

He looked up at her incredulously. She couldn’t be serious.

“ _Now_.”

Even from a distance, her words shook him to his core. He looked up at the robed woman. He could barely even see her mouth. Even with his semblance, he felt no strong emotions from her. But he could feel Raven’s growing impatience. Hesitantly, he removed his shirt and laid it on the ground beside him. His torso was bear, besides the large bruise on his abdomen and the simple golden locket that hung around his neck.

Raven leaned on the armrest to her chair. “Lie Ren. This girl’s name is Yang Branwen.” She motioned lazily with her free hand. “Yang. This boy’s name is Lie Ren.” She pointed at him. Torya knelt down and placed the parchment on Ren’s chest.

In the next instant, Ren’s vision was filled with a blinding red light followed by excruciating pain. The paper literally burned into his skin. Every muscle in his body tensed, but he couldn’t bring himself to move or even cry out. The light subsided, and Ren fell to the ground. Torya stood up. She walked over and presented the dust crystal to Raven. Yang stood with a look of horror painted on her face.

“Rise, child,” Raven demanded. Ren’s body spasmed. It took everything in him to force his eye open. Once he did, he couldn’t see anything but Raven. Even over all of the roaring pain that he felt, the venom in her words shocked him into compliance. He pulled himself back onto his knees. “Torya, remove the bandage over his eye.” She did so. The gash drew down his eyelid and onto his cheek. Raven’s precision had insured that his eyesight wasn’t damaged, but he still couldn’t open it for now.

Ren reached to touch the spot that had been burned by the spell. He looked down at it. The glowing red rune had been completely recreated on his skin. It was positioned directly over his heart.

“Mom… why did you do that to him?” Yang’s words trembled.

“Just so we’re all aware,” Raven began, “This dust crystal is bound to the rune on your heart. If I channel my aura through this crystal, no matter how far away you are, you will die.” She leaned forward. “Do you understand?”

Ren’s eyes widened in disbelief. This is what she intended. She had bound his life to this tribe of bandits, and he had no say in the matter.

“This is my offer, Lie Ren. You will serve my daughter as her personal bodyguard until the day comes that you are strong enough to take this crystal from me.”

Yang turned to her in astonishment. “What?!”

Raven continued. “You will be welcomed as a full member of this clan. You will work with us, train with us, and eat with us, until the time comes that you are able to earn your freedom. But Yang’s safety will be your priority, first and foremost.”

“A _bodyguard_?!” Yang stood directly in front of her mother. Her body appeared to glow with golden fire. “I can’t _believe_ this! Do you really think so little of me?! How can I possibly accept this weakling as a—“

Raven stood up and glared at Yang through narrow eyes. Yang’s protests immediately stopped.

“I am the leader of this tribe, and my decision is final.” She paused, then spoke each word that followed slowly and emphatically. “Do you challenge your leader?”

Yang bit her tongue. She knew exactly what saying yes would mean, but Raven would not accept silence as an answer. She took a step toward Yang.

“Do. You. Challenge. Your. Leader.” Raven’s gaze brimmed with animosity.

Despite the fear building in her stomach, Yang maintained eye contact. “…No.”

Raven’s face softened. “Alright then. Stand aside.” Yang did so, and Raven returned to her seat. Ren was still sitting on his knees, unable to process his situation.

“You seem lost for words. It’s understandable, but I need to know that you understand what I’m telling you. This is the reality of the situation, and it now falls on you to deal with it.”

He sat motionless.

Raven sat forward. “Lie.”

A switch flipped in his head. “DO NOT CALL ME THAT!” He screamed, so loud that the words tore in his throat. Tears began to stream down his face. All of Ren’s pain and confusion and rage melded together into an overwhelming torrent of emotion. He clenched his eyes shut and clamped the fabric of his pants into his fists. “No one… can call me… Lie.”

Raven and Yang were taken aback. Ren’s sobs were the only audible sound, next to the crackling of the fire.

“Alright then, what should we call you?” Raven shifted in her seat. A bemused look overtook her face. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

Helpless thoughts swirled in his mind. Every emotion that he had ever felt, every fear that had ever haunted his dreams, seemed to crisscross and materialize and fade away. He was losing his sense of what was real. It seemed like the cacophonous uproar was about to completely overtake his sanity, but at the noise’s peak, a small voice popped into his head.

_We’ve gotta go, Ren. Come on! We have to keep moving!_

The voice rang in his mind like a gentle bell. He took a deep breath, exhaled, then let his aura wash over his body. One by one, all of the thoughts flowed away.

“My name is Ren.” He opened both of his eyes, meeting Raven’s gaze and holding it unapologetically. “And I…” he paused “…will do what is necessary.”

Raven’s smile grew wider. She closed her eyes and chuckled softly. “Well I’m glad to hear that.” She turned toward Yang. “See him to a tent. The two of you will be sharing. Your training starts in the morning.”

Yang’s expression was thinly veiled outrage. “Yes, ma’am.” She walked over to his side and glared at him, not offering to help him up. “Come on.” Ren shakily pushed himself up onto his feet and followed after Yang.

Raven turned to Torya. “Have someone prepare clothes and bedding for him, would you?”

“Of course.”

“Oh!” She rolled the dust crystal around in her hand. “Could we possibly fashion this into something a little easier to hold onto?”

Ren’s night was restless. The fall air was cold, and the winter was colder. Each season that passed brought him closer and closer to a sense of normalcy, but the memories that he held and the fire on his chest reminded him that his home was not here. Not among this clan of killers. Regardless, he learned to carry out his duty. He learned that sometimes, compromises to one’s character were essential to survival. Even if it meant becoming something that he hated. To move forward, he would have to train until he could fulfill Raven’s bargain. And he would protect Yang, as silly as that idea was. Six full years later, Yang and Ren found themselves camped out on a ridge, ahead of the main camp and just southeast of a small town. The bite of the early fall air nipped at their skin as they sparred, barefooted on a big patch of dirt.

Ren jumped and came down at Yang with a rolling kick. She blocked the kick and swept at his other leg before he could properly land. He rebounded and settled in his stance a few steps back.

“Almost had ya there.” Yang winked. Her hair was pulled back into a large ponytail, brimming with wild curls. She wore earrings with flowy, red tassels, and a raven feather necklace. Her yellow tunic was tied with a golden sash, held by a flaming-heart-shaped buckle. She had bandages wrapped around her lower arms and legs.

“Almost.” He gave a slight smile back to her. His tunic was a simple green affair with red and gold trim. His hair had grown quite long and fluffy, and was pulled into a braided ponytail. A small, golden pendant hung around his neck—it was the one thing that he had refused to part with.

Yang rushed in at Ren with a right hook followed by a body roll into a left kick. He blocked one and ducked beneath the other, catching Yang with her back to him. He moved to take advantage, but Yang immediately dropped prone onto her stomach, got her feet between his, then turned over and spun with a double sweeping kick. Ren couldn’t react in time, and his feet were taken out from under him. His back slammed onto the ground, but he quickly rolled away and got back on his feet.

“Okay.” His breath was getting heavy. “That time… you got me.”

Ardent claps sounded from the direction of the road. The pair turned to see who it was.

“Very well done. You two are actually starting to look like something.” Raven continued to clap. There was a black kettle sitting next to her feet. “You might have actually earned your dinner tonight.”

Yang jolted in confusion. “Mo—uh, Chief! What are you doing up here?”

Raven picked up the kettle. “Well, you two have done a good job scouting. I thought that I would come bring you some dinner. We can go over the situation while we eat. Or after.” She walked up and placed her free hand on Yang’s shoulder. “And I told you. You can call me whatever you want when it’s just us.” Raven smirked and looked over at her rather winded partner. “Or us plus Ren.” She made her way over to their small fire pit. “Come on. You too, kid. You’re lucky I interrupted when I did.”

Yang looked over at Ren. He was casually wiping the dirt off of himself, but she could tell that he still wasn’t completely comfortable around her mother. “Come on. Whatever it is, it smells pretty good.”

Ren finished patting himself down. “Right. Be right there.” Yang turned to follow after Raven. Ren stood in silence for a few seconds, then turned to face the village at the base of the ridge. He knew that the main camp’s smoke could be seen from the village. It was no secret that they were coming. They were nearly a mile away, but even from here, Ren could feel something.

It took a lot for feelings to reach him at this distance. Ideally, a town would meet Raven’s demands and no blood would have to be spilled. But Ren knew what no one else could. Ren knew that these people intended to fight back.


	2. Pragmatism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back with the second chapter! I wish that I could get them out faster, but irl things (work) combined with the fact that I want it to be a good story are slowing me down. Hopefully I can be a little quicker going forward. Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> my tumblr: superduple.tumblr.com  
> Raf's tumblr (created the au): raffurano.tumblr.com

Wooden utensils thumped against bowls as the three ate in silence. The stew that Raven had brought contained boiled cabbage, chives, and some unidentified meat in a light brown broth. Yang ate quickly; she had nearly finished her helping when she looked across the small campfire and noticed Ren quizzically stirring around one of the small meat patties.

“It’s sliced up hotdog,” Yang said, with one cheek mostly full of stew.

Ren looked up at her slowly. “…Dog?”

“Nooo, it’s not _actually_ dog. It’s just…” Yang looked over at Raven, who was staring at her own bowl with a serious expression. Raven returned her glance, held it for a moment, then let her grimace soften into a smirk.

“I think it’s pig. Mostly. Picked some up at our last stop.”

“There ya go! Mostly pig. Probably no dog at all.” She finished swallowing, then assailed Ren with her exaggerated grin. He looked back down at the bowl with a small chuckle.

“Noted.”

“So.” Raven’s tone pulled the conversation back into the grim reality of the moment. “What have you noticed? Anything out of the ordinary?” Her questions sounded more like demands.

Yang thought for a moment. “Not really. There’s a decently tall stone wall. No real weak points. Three gates. It looks like they do have some sort of guard force or militia or something. It’s nothing that we haven’t dealt with before.”

“They certainly know that we’re coming.” Raven said flatly. “Have you seen any movement so far today?”

“Nothing organized.” Yang swallowed a large spoonful. “Seems like they’re just planning to see what happens. Hopefully that means that they won’t make an issue of it. It’d be great if we could get what we need and get out before that storm hits.” Yang looked over at Ren again. He was picking out and eating the cabbage. Ren looked back at her like he was planning to say something, but decided against it. Yang read his face carefully. She had had learned to pick up on the tiniest expressions, since that was usually all you ever got from him.

Raven shifted on her stump and looked up at the sky. A line of dark gray billows lined the horizon. “Those clouds are odd. I’ve never seen a storm move so slowly.”

Yang’s eyes moved from Ren back to Raven. She decided to follow her hunch and prompt Ren to speak up. “I, uh, am a little worried about their militia, though. The town’s pretty small and it wouldn’t take long for them to organize a resistance once we start making our approach.”

Raven looked back to her. “Oh really? So are they going to roll over or not?” Yang heard a slight color of suspicion in her mother’s voice. A twinge of anxiety swirled in her gut.

“I’m—uh, I’m just saying the if they _do_ decide to fight, it probably won’t be a walk in the park. We should be careful. That’s all I meant.”

“Their warriors seemed able, from what we could see,” Ren piped up. His voice was low and unobtrusive. “Our strongest should be up front, just in case.” Yang grinned at his input.

Raven panned back over to Ren. “Good to know.” She stood up and packed her empty bowl into her rucksack. She motioned for the other two to do the same. Ren handed his unfinished stew to Yang, who gulfed it down in two bites. She then tossed their two bowls into the bag. Raven continued, “I’ll return to the camp and get everyone ready. We’ll pass by here within the next two hours—don’t do anything reckless without us.”

“Got it.” Yang sounded off as Raven turned back and began walking toward the main camp. Her pace was deliberate until she passed behind a large oak. She didn’t appear on the other side—instead, a bird with dark feathers flew away from the tree and headed toward the distant campfire. Yang knew that Raven had that power, and so did most other people among the tribe. She guessed that her mother simply enjoyed the whole “mysterious disappearing warrior” routine.

Once she was out of sight, Yang turned back to Ren. “So. What’s up with the weird face?” He looked up at her, and she raised her brows expectantly. “Do you know something that I don’t?”

He placed his hands on his knees and stood up. “They’re going to put up a fight.”

“Wh—how could you know that? The last three villages that we passed through gave us what we needed without any fuss.”

Ren walked over toward the edge of the ridge, overlooking the town. “I can… feel it. Even from this far. There’s a lot of fear in the air… and anger.”

Yang sauntered up to his side and elbowed him gently. “Since when can your semblance work from that far?” She grinned and poked her face closer to his. “Have you been holding out on me?”

There was a moment of silence.

“No. The feelings coming from that village are just that strong. It’s… not something that I’ve felt before.”

Yang took a moment to wrap her mind around what he was saying. “It’s not like this is the first time a village has seen us coming. What’s so different about this place?”

Ren looked over and caught her stare with his. “I have no idea, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

~~~

“Ma’am, they’ve doused their fires. They’re sure to begin their advance soon.” The guard captain tentatively interrupted the girl’s meditation. “We’ll be going forward with the plan. Please be ready.”

The man closed the sliding door, leaving Arslan sitting alone in the large, open room. The floor was lined with soft matts. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled. She opened her eyes and stared intensely into the wall, and after a moment, stood up.

Arslan was a young woman with dark chestnut skin and platinum blonde hair. She wore an orange garment that flared out at the wrists and left her shoulders bare, showing the black sleeveless top that she wore underneath. A large red sash was tied across her midsection. She walked over to a small table at the far side of the room and opened the plain-looking box that sat on top.

“Guess it’s time to make use of this.” She took a roll of white tape from the box and began wrapping one of her hands.

~~~

Yang watched with her arms crossed as the caravan plodded its way up the steep slope to the top of the ridge. She could make out her mother on the back of a horse at the front of the convoy, her mask obscuring her face. Torya’s horse was less than a length behind, followed by a small group of lieutenants. Yang looked over her shoulder at Ren, who was breaking down the last bits of their makeshift campsite.

“You ready to rock?” she teased.

Ren stood up straight and forced a smile. “Sure am.”

Yang’s expression dropped. Honestly, Yang understood why Ren could never fully buy into the tribe’s lifestyle. She couldn’t help thinking that something was especially off, though. Ren was mindlessly adjusting his weapons that he had affixed to his lower back. Yang walked up closer to him.

“Still getting bad vibes?”

“Yes. And not just from the town, now.” He eyed the town, and then the storm approaching from the horizon behind them. Yang’s gaze followed his.

“Are we gonna be okay?” she asked. The muffled chorus of horse clops and groaning carriages grew more distinct as the tribe passed by the camp and began its descent toward the village. Raven’s gaze met theirs as she went by.

“You will be.” They refocused on each other; Ren gave Yang a soft, genuine smile. “That is my job, after all.”

Yang chuckled. “Oh, please. Just try not to get in the way.”

They caught up with the head of the group, making their way down the steep grade. As the gates grew closer, a small mass of armor-clad bodies assembled in three ranks, blocking the entrance. The militia stood with polearms at their sides. The air was growing colder.

A woman in the center of the front rank, presumably a lieutenant, spoke up once Raven was within earshot. “Hold! Your kind has no place here. Divert your course.” Her eyes were the color of stone and her words echoed with defiance.

Raven sat motionless for a moment. Yang and Ren stood to one side of her, and Torya was on the other. A heavy breeze blew past—Yang shuddered all the way down to her core. She looked into the eyes of the militia soldiers. There wasn’t a trace of fear in any of their faces. It was eerie.

After a moment of aggravated silence, Raven spoke up. “We only need to restock. Provide us with what we need, and we will be on our way.”

“Divert your course.” The lieutenant’s voice was icy. “You won’t step foot in this village unchallenged.”

Raven paused again. She looked over at Yang and Ren, then at Torya. The tension was growing palpable as the bulk of the tribe coagulated closer to the gate, abandoning carriages and horses on the road.

The world stopped for Raven’s response. “So be it.”

Raven drew her sword into the air. In the next instant, the militia at the gate fell into a defensive stance; the front rank drew large shields while the back ranks pointed their polearms through the openings. The stalwart lieutenant then let out a fierce call and a dozen archers appeared on top of the village’s walls, immediately opening fire. Before Raven could issue a command, Torya raised her hand and the first volley of arrows fell limply to the ground.

“Charge them!” Raven leapt from her horse toward the turtled soldiers. “Torya, keep the arrows off of us!” Raven sprinted toward the thorny defense, with her own lieutenants quick at her heels. Yang and Ren were still somewhat overwhelmed by the situation, including Torya’s inexplicable magic. They exchanged a reassuring look and pushed forward. Their opponents were situated in U shape, so there was no hope of moving around the formation… for most people. Raven was an exception. She jumped toward them, and just as the spears were pivoted against her, she transformed. In her raven form, she deftly flew over and behind the awestruck soldiers, rematerializing at their flank. One cut from her blade brought two of them down.

Raven’s attack left the enemy formation in shambles, and the lieutenants quickly began to overwhelm them from the front. Torya’s magic kept the archers’ attacks at bay—Yang and Ren ran forward to keep up the pressure. The bulk of the tribe followed just behind them, screams and profanities accompanying their approach. The militia lieutenant saw the bleak outlook and let out a desperate call.

She blocked a heavy hit with her shield. “Ugh—shadows!” Her voice carried over the tremendous clamor of steel striking against steel and flesh. “Release the shadows and open the gates!”

The large, ornate gates opened with a loud groan as the remaining soldiers fell back inside. The archers retreated from the walls.

“What?” Yang stopped in her tracks as the forward group followed after the retreating guard. Before she could fully get her bearings, she heard a scream from the main body of tribesmen. After a moment, she was able to place the voice. “Bron?”

“What is it?” Ren half-yelled as more warriors rushed past them and headed for the town. Yang got a read on where the scream came from and ran through the crowd to the edge of the road.

After weaving through the horde, she came upon a scene that made her face freeze stiff. A cloth-masked figure stood over a body soaking in a pool of blood. The killer’s mask was jet black, the rest of their armor consisting of a leather cuirass with other light strappings. Similar cries began to sound from the mass of tribesman that was still outside of the village as more masked rouges poured from the treeline.

The particular rogue that was facing Yang pulled their shortsword from the lifeless torso and faced her fully. Ren stood at her back.

“Be careful,” he warned.

Yang looked again at the corpse.

“Shut up.”

Her body shook. Her eyes went red. A golden fire rose from every inch of her frame. At her hands, the flames swirled and began to take form. The rippling lights condensed into the shape of two ethereal dragon heads, the maws rearing open and then half closing as they encased her fists. Serpent-like tails materialized at the bases and snaked up around her arms.

Yang trained her eyes on her target. Her voice was low. “Don’t blink.”

Her shoes left the ground with a deftness that contrasted her hotheadedness. She moved with purpose, lethal intent behind every step. The twin dragons ripped through the air as she approached, causing the rogue to flinch at the sound. They took a step to the side just as Yang lunged forward with a gleaming jab. Before the rogue could counterattack, though, Yang shifted her stance to face them and thrusted both of her fists into the air behind her. The dragons spat out two shockwaves of energy that launched her forward. The rogue had no time to react—Yang took the opening and buried her foot deep into their chest. The sound of cracking ribs was audible. The masked warrior fell to the ground, writhing. Their shortsword landed several yards away from them.

Only a few tribesmen remained outside the gate, attempting to put down the remaining perpetrators of the ambush. The broken warrior wriggled away from Yang, who stood immobile just a few feet away.

At first, she had seen the rogue as some horrible creature in a mask standing over the body of her friend. Now, she just saw a person: a squirming, fearful, defenseless person.

…who killed her friend.

Yang paced toward the rogue, eyes unblinking and unyielding. She stood over them—their face was mangled in fear. They tried to say something, but their words came out as gasps and grunts. It could’ve been from the salience of their mortality. Or it could’ve been from a punctured lung. Yang decided that she didn’t care either way. She slammed her fist down—the dragon roared into the explosive impact, then there was nothing.

Yang stood up as her semblance dissipated. Her eyes shifted back to violet. She turned to look back at the body. “So these guys must be the shad—“

She jolted when she saw Ren barely a foot away, his back to her. The sharp clang of metal hitting metal echoed through the air.

“Watch out!” he ordered. Yang hopped backwards to see what the hell was happening. She saw Ren locking blades with another shadow that must’ve been right behind her only seconds ago. The two of them broke apart. Ren stood at the ready with his weapons: the wind and fire wheels. They were two large bladed hoops, with handles on one side. For each one, the side opposite the handle had a large crescent-shaped blade that ran alongside the inner hoop. Yang thought of them as a pair of rings that had crescent moon hats, the crescent moon bits being the sharp bits. It made sense in her mind, at least.

The two lunged at each other again, the rogue jabbing at Ren’s torso with their blade. Ren sidestepped, caught the blade in the center of one of his wheels, then twisted it, disarming them. Before they could make a move toward their weapon, Ren came down on their forward knee with a powerful kick, shattering it. The rogue started to fall—Ren followed through with his second weapon and carved into their neck. They fell completely, going limp after only a few seconds of blood loss.

Yang stared at Ren for a moment, still reeling from the surprise. He looked over at her.

“Watch your back,” he said flatly.

Yang’s expression dropped into something grateful, but deadly serious. “Will do.” She took another look at Bron’s lifeless body, now accompanied by the two “shadows.” She felt her gut wrench. She took a deep breath and surveyed the scene. All of the shadows were either dead or had retreated back into the woods. A handful of tribesmen tended to their wounded. Some were dead. Yang made a point not to investigate further. “Come on. We need to get inside.” Ren nodded. They made their way through the gates, into the maw of the conflict.

The gates opened into a narrow cobble road with tall, tightly packed buildings lining the sides. The houses and shops were ornate, but noticeably damaged. Yang assessed the intricate, caved in roofs and the once pristine walls now spotted with blood. These were common sights in battle, but something about the damage was odd. She pushed that line of thinking to the back of her mind when she saw one of her mother’s longest standing lieutenants waiting about twenty yards away.

“There you are!” The gruff, older woman jogged over to Yang and Ren. She wore a light, rust colored chestpiece and a bandana of the same shade. “Glad you survived the ambush. Raven went on ahead. Not sure where, but I would assume toward the village square. This road leads right to it. Move it, you two!” She pointed down the road. “Keep an eye out. We outnumber them, but they’re fighting smart. Mostly guerilla style hit-and-runs.”

“Thanks, Gretchen.” Yang nodded at her. “You take care.”

“Always have.” She gave the pair a wide grin. “You don’t live to be this old, otherwise. Especially not in this clan.”

Yang smiled back at her, then took off toward the square with Ren close in tow.

As they moved through the town, she saw more signs of recent battle. Burned buildings, but no flames. Blood, but no bodies. The fighting within the village had been sparse so far—nothing that should have caused this damage. And if the tribe’s attack _had_ caused it, the fires would still be burning and the dead would still be lying in the street. Yang’s ponderings were rudely interrupted when an arrow whizzed past her head and cracked against the cobblestone between her and Ren. They fell into defensive stances and looked up. Four archers, shrouded in dark cloaks and all situated on different rooftops, had arrows trained on them.

“That was a warning shot!” One of the archers bellowed. “Surrender yourself to us.”

Yang’s aura blazed as the twin dragons rematerialized on her arms. “Not likely, assholes.” The archers loosed their arrows all at once, and Yang let out an explosive blast from one of her dragon gauntlets, disintegrating them. Under cover of the blinding light, the archers nimbly moved to other buildings, surrounding the pair with two on either side. They fired again. Ren threw one of his wheels in an arc, cutting down two of the arrows, as Yang managed to sidestep the two others. Ren caught his weapon as it boomeranged back to him. He and Yang stood back to back.

“We need to close the distance.” he remarked over his shoulder.

“Way ahead of you.” Yang took a step forward and thrusted her gauntlets behind her and toward the ground. The explosive blasts generated a shockwave that she rode all the way to the closest rooftop. Ren rolled his eyes and smirked, then turned toward the two on his side and did the same, with less flare and more normal jumping.

The leader recoiled at Yang’s approach. “Fall back!” The group turned tail and began vaulting from building to building toward the center of the town.

“No you don’t!” Yang shot after them in a blur of red and gold.

“Yang, don—“ Ren started, but she was out of earshot before he could finish. He let out a deep sigh. “Why do I even bother?” He looked down at his chest. “Oh. Right.” He chuckled at his own joke, however morbid, then set after Yang.

“Get back here!” She roared after the retreating militiamen. She had no intentions of letting _any_ of them escape. The longer this battle took, the more of her clansmen were going to die. She was going to end this, even if it meant putting every last one of them down herself. Their speed, however, was astounding. The way they moved didn’t resemble any of the security forces that she had encountered from other villages. The town square slowly came into view, and the cacophony of battle grew louder.

Yang lost track of the archers just before making it into the square. It was a surprisingly large area, dotted with conspicuous stacks of large crates and an impressive fountain situated in the center. Skirmishes were taking place here, but numbers on both sides were surprisingly small. Yang decided that most of her tribesman must have been separated into smaller groups and lead elsewhere, which suited their enemies perfectly. She stood for a moment evaluating the scene, unsure of where to intervene.

That is, until she noticed a figure sitting on the edge of the fountain.

~~~

Arslan saw the blonde haired girl drop into the square, frantically trying to get a read on the situation. The plan that she and the guard captain had put together was working so far. The bandits were separated into small groups and spread throughout the city, and the girl was apart from the leader. Arslan strained her eyes to get a good look at the her.

_Blonde, muscular, must have ditched the pigtails. I’m certain it’s her, though._

She stood up from her seat on the fountain and walked forward. The girl had finally noticed her. “Hey!” Arslan called. “You’re Yang Branwen, right?”

Yang watched her cautiously for a moment before replying. A boy with dark hair appeared beside her. Arslan stopped. She had never seen him before, which means that he was not part of the plan.

“So what if I am?” She finally answered.

Arslan’s heart began to race. It was time to carry out her role. If she failed, she would die, and so would everyone else.

“You and I have some business to take care of.”

Arslan looked up at the sky. The storm clouds were almost upon them. She would have to finish it quickly.


End file.
